Prologue
{My Baby's Daddy Is The Alpha?} ©
[Contains: Swearing]
Holy mother of shit. . .” –okay you’re probably wondering why a nineteen year old girl such as myself, decided on these words at 5a.m in the morning. If you are, you should know curiosity killed the cat, and if you didn’t your stupid for not thinking so, curiosity does get you somewhere. The cat is still very much alive at the moment.
“Oh no, oh man.” I’m pretty much choking on air, at the moment, maybe a little bit of barf too.
“Deity, you have got to be fucking with me.” Still delusional at the moment, people –don’t blame me.
I stared at the chemist white, flimsy pee stinking stick. Two pluses in a deep violet appeared on the results about three minutes ago, and I’m seriously thinking of opening another. But I really don’t want to wait until I have to pee again, so I’ll settle with one, and hopefully calm down the launching panic attack.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I whispered after another moment. My panic finally lowered its bar, and my mind was coming clear. Along with a freaked out wolf, a she-wolf; that’s right I’m a wolf. A werewolf, well actually a knocked up werewolf, right now –to a mysterious male.
It was about three weeks ago since I got tipsy, okay a little more than tipsy and had wild animal sex with a wolf . . . or a human. Oh god, I don’t know –I was wasted, and karma seems to want to fuck me its self, with a fucking baby. A baby I couldn’t possibly give up, I can’t kill whatever is inside of me. It’s inhumane!
You idiot, I told you, you shouldn’t have tried to get drunk!
You dared me to see if a werewolf could get drunk!
I closed my eyes and tried to remember anything. It was apparently useless; I was as blind as the she-wolf. Sighing I rose from the tiled bathroom and flushed the toilet multiple times –the box of tests were swung into the trash, and I made my way to my bedroom, before lowering myself onto the bed, slowly.
This pregnancy is going to slow me down a bit.
Get rid of them.
Them, what do you mean them? No either way, I won’t they’re in me, in you, we’re keeping the child . . . the children?
. . . If you say so . . . what about your future mate?
Groaning with displeasure I curled into my normal sleeping position, with a strange new placement of my hand. I looked down to see my palm of my left hand resting just below my navel. As if I was automatically protecting the life waiting to be born, inside of me.
Unconsciously my mind began to shut down, and my thumb stroked my stomach. My lips began to move; the sweet melody made its way from my throat, and beyond my lips. The tune sinking in as I sung through the lyrics of Taylor Swift’s, White Horse came with ease.
What do you think of the start?
Is it good enough to get your vote?
Maybe just a comment. . .
–TheWerePanda
